


Venom

by Atlantia



Category: The Social Network (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, M/M, Post-Canon, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 00:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13042407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atlantia/pseuds/Atlantia
Summary: Eduardo has been suffering following the settlement of the Facebook shares fiasco, but he has no choice but to keep going back to Mark.





	Venom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aroceu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroceu/gifts).



> Hi aroceu, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it :) Your website was extremely helpful and I managed to pick out a couple of things you mentioned you like, and hopefully didn't include too many things you don't! I love when these challenges let me write something a little bit different and out of the ordinary, and yours was certainly that.

Eduardo has been waiting out in the warm California evening for almost half an hour, searching desperately for the strength to do what he knows he must. His suit is rumpled from hours of international travel, he’s tired, worn to the bone, and most of all absolutely starving, and still he’s been standing under the stars in a last desperate attempt to come up with any way to avoid what’s about to come. 

It’s been twelve months since the settlement, twelve months of torture by the person he’d given everything. And each time he comes back he’s tried to stretch it longer. 

‘Just one more day’. 

He’s more sure than ever that he’s reached the limit. By the time he cleared customs he’d had no choice but to direct the cab straight here. He didn’t think he’d last through checking in at his hotel, so now his luggage sits neatly stacked just inside the front gate, but he didn’t bring it to the door.

He won’t be staying long.

Eventually, his hand moves of its own accord, and from the front steps the doorbell almost sounds like an operating system booting up. He’s not sure if that’s intentional or just a result of the acoustics. If it’s intentional he doubts that it was Mark’s choice, probably either Chris or Dustin. He seems to recall a mention of a housewarming gift prank war, but he hadn’t been here for it. It’s ok for him to enjoy the humour of the situation if Mark didn’t choose it, and he is almost tempted to press it again so that he can imagine Chris’ sympathetic eyes, or Dustin’s crazy grin.

Instead, he focusses on keeping himself standing. ‘Just one more day’ seems to have reached the limit. Six weeks. A long time for some, a short time for others. Right now, it felt like eternity.

The door clicks as the locks disengage, and he tries to straighten up and retain at least some of his dignity. At the back of his mind, his traitorous conscience reminds him that nothing about this is dignified. Regardless, even if that’s true he’s given Mark enough of himself, so he shouts it down and locks his joints into a parody of military stiffness, but as soon as the door swings open, it all leaves him anyway. 

As always, it’s the smell that hits him first. A bright, strong, powerful scent that sweeps over him. It fills his lungs with heat and sets his mind on fire, and his fangs are out before he even realises. He can feel the venom dripping from them into his mouth to mix with the sudden abundance of saliva. Under normal circumstance, he never would have let his control lapse like that, but at this point he had little choice.

Six weeks was too long.

“Wardo.” Mark’s voice is stiff but not hostile, and Eduardo can’t help the surge of desperate longing he feels on hearing it. He swallows noisily, oily venom sliding thickly down his throat.

“Mark.” He sees Mark’s eyes go immediately to his mouth, to the inch-long fangs now extended on display. He knows how large they are, how Mark had always found them fascinating, and when spots of colour bloom on Mark’s pale cheeks and his eyes skitter away, Eduardo can’t help feeling some small victory.

“Can I come in?” There’s a slight hiss to his words and the colour on Mark’s cheeks deepens as he nods and steps to the side. Mark’s eyes dart to the luggage sitting on the front path, and there’s a fraction of a second where Eduardo sees him make an abortive move towards them, mouth opening as if to ask the question. Then a second later his hands are fisted by his side and his jaws are clenched so tightly that Eduardo can hear his teeth grinding. He’s not sure why, after all this time.

The door shuts with a thud that echoes in the house, and without the warm summer air, all Eduardo can smell is Mark. The house is eerily silent, beyond the normal electrical hum of appliances accompanying a modern house. The TV sits silently on the wall and although Mark’s laptop rests on the coffee table, it is powered off and the lid is closed. Eduardo frowns as he takes it all in and looks over at Mark who is still acting out of sorts. His hands are restless as they pluck at his hoodie, and something feels different to normal, something has changed from the previous thirteen times he has come here since moving to Singapore. He draws in a deep breath, and there, hidden under Mark’s overpowering scent he picks up just the faintest hint of freshly turned earth mixed with lavender.

The implications of that take what feels like hours to turn over in his mind.

Another vampire has been in Mark’s house.

Another vampire has been in Mark’s house recently.

Another vampire has been in Mark’s house, where Eduardo’s pheromones have been carefully refreshed every time he returns.

Another vampire has been in Mark’s house, and has lingered long enough that his smell still remains.

Eduardo turns to look at Mark, who is watching him scent the house, but will not meet his gaze. Mark, who is never afraid to stare someone down. Mark, who is wearing a hoodie, in spite of the weather, done up right to the top, with the hood folded around his neck.

Six weeks is too long, and Eduardo feels the animal fury rise in him with a strength he has no hope of reigning in. Mark must see it in his face, as his eyes widen and something like fear spills into them. Eduardo is across the room and has Mark up against the door before he can think. The windows to either side of the door rattle in their frames with the force of the collision, and Eduardo turns nails sharp enough to cut glass against Mark’s soft woollen jacket.

“Wardo…” Mark’s voice is panicked, but Eduardo doesn’t hear whatever else he says. All he can focus on are the two, small puncture wounds, marring Mark’s pale neck. The fire of his anger seems to freeze and crystallise, hollowing out his insides until he feels an emptiness he hasn’t felt in the last 500 years. Mark had never let him leave a bite behind, and Eduardo had always been careful to honour that, even during these visits, always licking the wounds shut until nothing remained but smooth skin. The scars are small, from fangs much less impressive than his own, and he can't stop his hand from gently sliding up and caressing them. They're at least two weeks old, well healed, but Mark still makes a small whimper as he presses down on them. His own voice keens like birdsong in response.

“Why, Mark?” He doesn’t recognise the hollow, broken sounds coming from his own throat. He stumbles backwards, leaving Mark leaning against the front door, but can’t tear his eyes away from those small punctures.

“You knew what this was. You knew!” His last words are shouted. “I explained everything to you before we ever started this! I told you what being with me would mean!” He squeezes his eyes shut to block Mark out, and stumbles backwards, desperately trying to put distance between them. He’s so weak, so starved, and he has no choice but to brace himself against the wall, not trusting his legs to hold him up.

“Even after everything that happened, you knew that this could never stop. You said you understood.” His eyes snap open as he is suddenly shoved with a strength he isn’t expecting, and falls to the floor. Mark lands on top of him, straddling him, fists slamming against Eduardo’s already rumpled suit. 

“You left me.” Mark’s words burn with an anger that Eduardo can see has been blazing inside him for a long time. “You said this was forever, that nothing could separate us, and then you fucking left!” Mark is panting, his fists clenched in Eduardo’s shirt. His eyes move restlessly, as though they can’t choose where to focus. “I… Six weeks Eduardo! You keep staying away longer, you only ever see me to feed, you never talk to me, and still every time you feed from me it still feels like the forever you promised.” Eduardo’s hands have unconsciously circled Mark’s wrists and he can feel the frantic pulse and heat of the blood circulating through them. Mark shifts uncomfortably but his eyes have now settled on Eduardo’s and Eduardo can’t bring himself to look away.

“You said it was forever, that you’d never be able to feed on anyone else again. I don’t…” Mark stops, evidently unable to put what he’s trying to say in words. 

“Everything else… Facebook, the shares, they… I… You said nothing would separate us. I thought you… I thought you understood that none of what happened was about us. We were forever.” Eduardo isn’t exactly sure if Mark is trying to apologise, but he can’t stop the bloom of warmth that starts to melt the frozen anger inside him. Mark seems to see something change in his expression and his eyes slide to the side and something like guilt flashes over them.

“Six weeks this time, Eduardo. Six weeks. You've obviously been trying to last as long as possible. I thought you wanted us over. That you were just coming to me because you had no choice. What was I supposed to do?" Mark tugs at his left hand and Eduardo lets it go. Watches as it covers the two small marks.

"He,” Eduardo can’t help the snarling hiss at the admission that it had been another male, “talked to me. He was interested in me." Eduardo's free hand grabs Mark by the throat, hard enough that he thinks there will be bruises, and drags Mark in closer.

"I will find out who he is, Mark. I can still smell him here." Eduardo can feel as his snarl deepens into a rumble like oncoming thunder, "And when I find him, I will rip those pathetic little fangs out of his mouth for what he's done." Mark shivers in his grip and his eyes flick briefly down to where Eduardo knows his fangs are on display.

"We didn't sleep together, Wardo. We didn't really do anything. As soon as he came here he told me," Mark's free hand is suddenly on his cheek, the thumb running gently down the edge of his fang, and this time it's Eduardo's turn to shiver, "told me how my whole house smells of you. How your scent was everywhere, on everything, so strong that there was no way it wasn't deliberate.” Mark’s voice gets heavier at the end, thicker, and Eduardo can feel the snarl deepen into a deep vibration in his chest as Mark’s eyes return to his. "You marked everything, but then you stayed away. You wouldn't talk to me, so, I just had to know..." Eduardo’s snarl abruptly cuts off, and he squeezes Mark’s throat, forcing his attention back.

“Had to know what, Mark?” Mark’s face goes bright red. Eduardo can see the flush of blood moving down his throat, see his pulse pounding in his carotid artery, and feels his venom flow anew.

“If you were over me.” Eduardo thinks his heart might explode in his chest, and seconds later Mark is on his back underneath him, legs wrapped around Eduardo’s waist in a way they haven’t been in over a year. Eduardo feels his fangs sinking through the two small scars on Mark’s neck. He knows he’s biting a bit harder than he should, going in deeper than he needs to, but Mark is making noises that confirm he doesn’t want Eduardo to stop, and Eduardo needs to replace those puncture wounds with his own.

In short order, Mark’s blood is flowing over his tongue, sweet and powerful and familiar, with the slightest hint of something new hidden underneath. 

Eduardo thinks it might be hope.

Fin~


End file.
